Yesterday, we got to do it all over again.
Today, we get to do it all over again.
And tomorrow, we get to do it all over again, too.
Maybe that routine is what gives us peace of mind in the uncontrollable chaos of life?
Maybe that routine isn’t a drag, but, in fact, the beauty of life?
I don’t always have to feel like writing to know I want to be a writer.
But to be a writer, I must write.
So I write.
There is no other way.
You can choose what success in your life looks like.
And if you make your daily successes achievable enough so you feel successful every day, guess what: you’re a successful person now.
There’s a reason it’s called Tiny Trust Builders, not massive out-of-reach Trust Builders.
So celebrate that one-minute workout you did.
That one sentence you wrote today.
That one new word you learned in a new language.
That one time you didn’t give in to cravings.
Because daily Tiny Trust Builders create massive momentum and massive self-trust.
And I don’t know about you, my friend, but I’d rather feel successful every day than like a failure because those good feelings will carry over in all other aspirations and relationships.
Giving up on your intentions once doesn’t mean you’ll always give up.
Quitting a workout routine or diet once doesn’t mean you’re doomed forever.
Giving one clumsy speech doesn’t mean you’re a bad public speaker forever.
Learning from the past is good. But predicting the future based on a small set of isolated past experiences is overcalibration.
Why do you love writing, despite the fact that the act of writing is often a drag?
Why do you love running, despite the fact that the act of going for a run is often a chore?
Why do you love learning languages, despite the fact that the act of practicing is often riddled with frustration?
Why do you love it so much?
And wouldn’t it feel good to remind yourself of that love every day… so you make sure the love is there to stay?
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an object as an apple. Now I don’t pay attention to the dimensions, color, smell, and texture anymore.
Within a split second, I’ve categorized an emotion as anger, fear, frustration, love. So I don’t pay attention to the physiological changes in my body anymore.
I’m always categorizing – but I didn’t consciously create the categories.
But what if I’m categorizing inaccurately?
Can I interrupt instant categorization, governed by language, habits, patterns, past experience?
Can I re-open my senses and see, smell, touch, hear, feel again?
Can I start sensing nuances between the objects I behold?
Can I discern nuances between the feelings I feel?
Mindfulness, journaling, meditation, and learning languages can help with more conscious categorization.
Because what if the anger I feel is nothing but fear?
What if the fear I feel is nothing but frustration?
What if the frustration I feel is nothing but unrequited love?
And what if the love I feel is nothing but infatuation?
What if you could? What if you could already do what you believe you still can’t?
Maybe the key isn’t to become a different person, but to believe in the person you already are.
Whoever or whatever you aspire to be is not as far off as you might think.
